Rotten
by Dancing Feather
Summary: It's not only a smell, it's an action and a state of being. :oneshot, 1st of the MUD series: If you like Pokémon with realism jammed down it's throat, this is for you.


If you think I own Pokémon... You're wrong. Please follow Ryan Libra's example by finding the flaws within my work. It's the only way I can improve the fastest for your entertainment!

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**Rotten**

Like most caves, this one started out small, with both trainer and Pokémon squeezing themselves through the opening. Due to the cramped space, traversing through the first few tunnels resulted in a few minor cuts and bruises. Not wanting to startle the wildlife, the trainer asked his Charmeleon earnestly not to use flash. "At least, not yet." the trainer smiled, rubbing the rough, dull, red hide long enough for the Charmeleon to close his eyes and lean into it. "Your tail will provide enough light for now." And it did, aside from seeing interesting shadows that grew and jumped from the fire light and occasional echoing alien sounds, the trip stayed uneventful.

Upon entering the first large room in the cave, the trainer hugged close to his Pokémon's side. The sound of sneakers kicking invisible rocks and clawed feet cutting the soft ground were too loud, in their opinion. Shuffling their way around holding close to the walls, they heard a noise they both knew neither were incapable of producing.

"Kyu?"

The sound came from something small. Small and not too far from where they stood. Deciding to brave the unknown to see what made the noise, the trainer motioned his Charmeleon forward with a simple wave from his hand. Keeping wary, the Charmeleon kept his head low to the ground, ready to defend or strike back.

As the flame got closer, the trainer saw the little squeak was a large slug in shape, two, three feet in length, except where it came to the head where it was more snakelike. It was obviously too young, as told by its bright blue and white hide and its lack of fear in the trainer and Pokémon. Looking at both of the strangers with large, curious black eyes, it crooked its neck, and its white, fanned ears flapped away from its soft head. If it was trying to look threatening, it wasn't succeeding.

"Kyu..."

"I can't believe it, they really do live down here." the trainer said breathlessly before squatting. "Hello, little Dratini." the trainer cooed, holding his hand out for the young dragon to smell. It crawled closer to inspect the hand with it's eyes, but did not venture further.

"Kyuuu..."

The Charmeleon was amused at first, as it was a rare sight in these travels. Not the rare his trainer might be thinking in scarceness of the Pokémon in subject, but in the sense of peace. To see a wild Pokémon, and not have to go to battle in defense or capture. It was days like these he enjoyed the most.

Very rare, indeed.

Suddenly, his muscles stiffened when he heard the sound of water drops falling to the ground. Knowing that his trainer probably missed it, he gave a deep, hissing growl in warning. "What is it Roll?" the trainer whispered, retreating back from the Dratini. "Go ahead, use flash."

A few sparks erupted from his tail. The flame grew in size and intensity, illuminating the room and revealing the smoothened, dull-colored walls that had been carved by the passage of time. Rare, glittering rocks protruded haphazardly from the ceiling and upper walls. They did not shine, for the fire from the Charmeleon's tail could not reach their specular surfaces. A third of the room was emerged in clear water where one could view the bottom of the lake perfectly. For cave venturers, it was a beautiful place. But neither Roll nor his trainer noticed any of that.

Right in front of them, possibly thirteen feet away and holding even stiller than they, was a poised Dragonair. Even with more than half of its body in the crystalline pool before them, its head hung eleven feet or so above them. The feathered wings that graced its head were spread wide, effectively looking threatening where the little Dratini didn't. "Holy shit..." the trainer gasped before he could stop himself. The Dragonair's lips peeled away from each other, opening to show long worn, pearly teeth. And for a moment, all was still and quiet while both parties stared at each other.

However, the intruders didn't move fast enough for the Dragonair, whose raging scream echoed as it whipped its head and charged at the two. While Roll managed to move out of the way, his trainer cried as he was swept into the Dragonair's open mouth and then thrown into the wall. Within seconds any tranquility was removed with the sound of rocks crumbling and the ground cracking. The Dragonair watched the passed out trainer come to. Adrenaline kicking in, the trainer gasped and flailed behind the stalagmite that still stood. Satisfied with the first threat gone, the Dragonair turned to the red raptor.

Roll readied himself for another dodge, but paused when he noticed something dangling from the dragon's mouth. His cat like pupils thinned as he watched the object loosened from the stained teeth it was stuck between and dropped to splatter blood on the cave floor. A leg. _His_ master's leg.

Fury boiled fast in the Charmeleon as he took no effort to finish his strategy and charged at the creature that he no longer respected. As far as he was concerned now, this monster deserved nothing more than death. He leapt over the head that dived to greet him and landed just behind the head, the safest place to hold a serpentine creature. Tearing into the flesh, Roll clamped on with his feet and hands while his mouth tore into the skin, muscle, blood and blubber. Shrieking and rolling on the ground, the Dragonair tried to dislodge what only looked moments before a red pest.

Securing a spot behind the boulders, the trainer attempted to tie his ripped pants leg around the bleeding stump of what was left of his right leg. But the crash did more than snatch the trainer's consciousness for a few moments. Aside from stabbing his body with pain, it had stolen the sensation in some parts, as well. Only two fingers on the trainers right hand did as he asked them to. He cursed as his knots continued to fail. Being a right-handed human, his shaking left hand grabbed for the Pokéball with the word 'Howl' written in permanent marker curiously. Trying to push the button, the trainer realized in dread that he could not move his left thumb or see through one of his eyes. Using gravity and cursing, the trainer tilted his hand till the ball's button moved to the pointer finger. Gasping, the trainer expanded the ball to its full size. Dropping his hand to the floor, he let the ball roll out of his hand. Luckily it continued across the floor till it hit a large pebble. At that moment, the ball released the Rhydon held inside. Just a few feet away from landing on his own master.

"H-help..." was all the trainer could say before he began to cough in hysterics. The taste of iron soon entered his mouth and was not that much later, coming out on his shirt. The silent rocky creature gazed at his master with its near black eyes for a brief moment before turning after the Dragonair in a slow but fluid motion.

Roll jumped off the Dragonair as the beast swung its body into the pool, cascading water all over the floor causing Howl to shudder slightly as his feet contacted the cursed liquid. Continuing moving forward, Howl waited at the foot of the darkening pool as the Dragonair writhed.

When the Dragonair began to settle, Howl took the chance to wrap his arms around the closest body part. With the help of friction from his rough arms and claws he began to slowly pull the serpentine out of the red water. In another rush of adrenaline, the Dragonair wrapped it's body around the new enemy and clamp it's teeth onto Howl's face, gnawing at the surface. The Rhydon waited patiently as pieces of him fell unrecognizable from other rocks. Soon, Howl thought, the Dragonair would try to chew his horn, that would be the moment to use Horn Drill.

The perfect end to this situation.

Roll found himself on the opposite bank from where he had first started. Slightly dazed, he pushed himself up with his hands and was spooked to realize what he had landed in. Nervous chirps and mews, six pairs of black eyes looked at Roll. He had landed in a nest of Dratini. The Charmeleon's tongue was designed short, stubby and hard to deal with the elements of breathing fire. So there was no licking lips to quell the thoughts protruding his mind.

_'My master is dying because of these things.'_

Snatching one, Roll pulled a Dratini out of it's nest and onto the cold hard rock. The squealing caught the Dragonair's ears and it whipped around bearing it's bloodied, rock speckled teeth. It kept it's body wrapped around Howl, hissing deeply.

"R-Roll, what are you d-doing?" he heard his trainer wail.

_'I'm only repaying the deed.'_

Both red and blue lizard narrowed their eyes on each other, daring the other to make a move first.

"L-leave it alone! Help Howl!"

Roll tightened his clawed fingers around the Dratini's neck.

_'My master is probably not going to make it out of this cave...'_

"It's a baby! Roll, h-help... Help Howl!"

Everything happened so fast so he reacted by instinct. Now that actions have slowed down, it seemed his brain had followed.

_'What do I do?'_

The Dragonair no longer hissed, its energy greatly drained. Its blood drenched Howl from horn tip to tail tip. The only sound was of a trainer's rasping breath, water dripping and the mewing from the other Dratini as they waited for a now limp sibling to respond again.

_'What do I do now?'_

There was a reason why only three kids at a time were allowed to become trainers.

"R-Roll..."

It was to lower the death toll.


End file.
